


stars

by hellsteeth



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Divorced parents, Gen, samantha is there but only in spirit, teenage angst, teenage mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 12:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsteeth/pseuds/hellsteeth
Summary: what did Fox Mulder's life look like during the years following the disappearance of his sister?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	stars

“You said you’d take him for the next two weeks,” his mother hisses into the phone from the kitchen, hardly making an effort to conceal her voice. “What am I supposed to do now, Bill?” **  
**

Fox plays with the frayed edge of his t-shirt as he sits on the stairs and listens. Upstairs, his well-worn suitcase is stuffed full of the necessities for two weeks at his father’s Vineyard house. He should be on his way there by now, listening to the sound of his father spitting sunflower seeds out the window as they carve through the New England roads. According to his mother, there’d been a hold up, something about his father’s job and a meeting with the Secretary of State. Thinking back to the feeble explanation, Fox snorts and shakes his head. He’s heard that particular line half a dozen times by now.

His mother’s agitated voice crescendos and simmers down to a poisonous whisper. Her sour mood radiates outward and washes over Fox, giving him a sharp pinch of guilt in his stomach.

Two more years. Then he’ll be sixteen and he won’t need to depend on his parents to taxi him between the Vineyard and Rhode Island over and over again. He might even be able to drive himself to a different location entirely, a place where he won’t be a constant burden. The idea is sweet and he savors it as he trudges up the stairs, sensing that he won’t be leaving the house any time soon. Two years won’t be so long to wait, he supposes.

Two years ago, he’d had a sister.

 _I have a sister,_ he thinks to himself stubbornly as he flops down on his twin bed and looks up at the ceiling, _she’s just somewhere else right now._ Sticky-tacked stars seem to wink back at him. A well-aimed toss of his pillow hits the lightswitch and the plastic stars begin to bathe him in an artificial glow. The same constellations await him at his father’s house, salvaged from Sam’s old bedroom before it was turned into an office and attached to both of his bedroom ceilings with care. On nights like this, when he entertains his own angst, Fox will lay on his back and look up at the stars, wondering if they were the last thing Samantha saw before she disappeared.

(The stars must be cursed, because he’s disappeared as well. Here and not here at once, split between two places and wanted in neither.)

The stars must lull him to sleep at some point, because the next thing he knows, his mother is opening his door and kicking his pillow out of the way.

“Wake up, Fox,” she says. “Your father is here to drive you home.”

 _Drive him home_. As if sitting in his bedroom reading and shooting hoops in the driveway for the past month has been a vacation. The proof of her announcement comes in the form of cigarette smoke and his father’s disgruntled cursing from the hallway and he attempts to lug his son’s heavy suitcase down the stairs.

As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads _5:03 AM_ and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.

The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.

“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River. There’s supposed to be a haunted bed and breakfast there. Maybe he’ll visit when he gets his license, see what the ghost business is all about.

“Same as always, son.” His father answers perfunctorily. “Too many damn problems and not enough people with brains to fix them. How’s school?”

“It’s summer break, Dad.”

“Right, right. Have you decided whether you’re going to stay with me or your mother for the school year?”

“Not really. Not yet.”

“That’s alright.” he sighs.

They talk sports for a little while and Fox holds the wheel steady while his father lights up another cigarette. He holds it out across the cupholders like a novelty, and Fox, who understands the subtleties and gameplay of divorced parents trying to one-up each other, takes a drag without question and tries to understand how such a thing can be calming. Like everything in the Vineyard house, he’s bound to stink of tobacco by this afternoon.

Thankfully, the ferries are up and running by the time they hit the Vineyard Sound. Fox has half a mind to ask his father to stop smoking as he puts his head between his knees and tries to focus on his breathing, but there’s no guarantee that opening his mouth wouldn’t lead to vomiting, so he clenches his teeth and lets the waves of nausea pass over him.

The sun is up by the time they reach the house. Fox abandons his suitcase in the back of the car in favor of collapsing on his bed, as tired as if he’s stayed up all night. His father might drive off, or he might park the car and come in the house. Fox has no way of knowing and doesn’t really care. His bedroom is exactly how he left it, fairly similar to the room in Providence with a bit more clutter since his father almost never enters.

Light trickles in from behind the blinds, but before he drifts off, Fox looks up and sees Samantha’s stars, pale in the daylight. They welcome him back, and no matter where he sees them, he feels at home. Wherever she is, he hopes that she knows he’s taking good care of her stars.


End file.
